Never Better, Always Worse
by annieforthewin
Summary: This is a story set after Mockingjay. How Katniss and Peeta's children grow up. Mainly their daughter. She gets bored of District Twelve and this is what happens.  Please review! See inside for further explanation.
1. Blast from the Past

****So, as I begun in the summary. I really need reviews because I actually do not know where I should go with this story. I have a slight idea, but I really want to see what you guys come up with. Please help me out. 8D

DISCLAIMER. I do not own the characters, the settings or anything about the Hunger Games. The amazing Suzanne Collins does.

**CHAPTER ONE**

My eyes quickly open as I hear someone banging on my door. Of course, I instantly know who it is. Mother, trying to get me to wake up as yet another boring day in District Twelve starts. I don't know why she stayed around here, giving up her days as a hunter when she married father, twenty-eight years ago. I hate thinking that she gave everything up for him and he could still bake, still paint, still do everything he liked. Then again, it's not like I know anything that happened years ago, like I know what it actually felt like to be at war and to lose everyone, or almost, you loved at once. I've been told stories about my aunt prim, and a few of my mother and my father's friends, over and over again. How they both barely made it out of these things called the hunger games. But then, how everything just got worse after that. I know I'm supposed to feel happy that those things are over. To be honest, I do see how they could have been seen as horrible back then. After seeing some tapes without my parents knowing, of course, I do think it was absolutely horrible of the government to put it's people true such suffering each year.

Since the last hunger games, which was the third quarter quell, I've been told by many people, who seemed not to mind talking about those time as much as my parents, that security has been increased. They keep telling me over and over that it's because District Twelve was destroyed during the war. But I can't help but feel trapped in here. Every time I look over at the fence which cuts us from the rest of the world, the only thing I want to do is cross it, but I never was allowed to. Plus, guardians would never let me, a little thirteen year old girl. Guardians are those who replaced something I've never known, the peacekeepers. Since I was born, I've only seen them taking care of our people, making sure everyone has shelter and such things. But it feels too good to be true. For some reason, I keep doubting our society and how it works. But I guess that simply comes from the fact that both of my parents are so emotionally unstable. Even though the doubts grow stronger everyday, I keep it to myself and push them to back of my mind. Most of the time.

"MIMOSA MELLARK! Come out now!" She screams at my door and I simply burry my head under my pillow, attempting to block everything out even though I can still hear her outside. I also make out the loud footsteps of my father, coming down the hallway. He doesn't mean those as a threat, he's just so bad at being quiet, even when he knows everyone's sleeping and he has to go to the bathroom.

"Stop screaming, Katniss. You know it's useless." she doesn't answer him, simply storming off just like whenever I annoy her to the highest point. I smile, satisfied. However, my smiles fades when I hear him sitting against the wall next to the door that leads inside my room and I roll my eyes. Why can't they just leave me alone? I know my father. He's not as aggressive as my mother when it comes to me, but he's stubborn. He's determined to make me come out of there if he decided to simply sit there and wait. He knows how much it annoys me. I sit up, pushing my brown curls behind my ear and pulling down the shirt of my pajamas. I make my way to the door and, before I can open it, i hear my brother rushing past my father and greeting him with a joyful hello.

We're complete opposites, my brother and I. When he's a cheerful little guy, I'm the big bad mean girl. But that's probably because I'm a teenager now. Haymitch told me that. How teenagers are a pain in the— He knows. He worked with them for so long during the hunger games. But I never bring that thought up when I'm around him, knowing it will hurt him. Somehow, he's the only one I never want to hurt. Ever. That's cruel to say, I know. But somehow I'm so annoyed with my mother and my father right now, and even with my brother who's always so happy, that I can't help but not care if I hurt them. Still, I come out of my room and let my blue eyes, a perfect mirror of his own, fall on him.

"What?" I simply tell him, crossing my arms over my chest, clearly showing him that I'm in the same stubborn state of mind that he's in.

"You could be nicer." he says and I roll my eyes. Nicer? I'm barely being mean. I'm not the one threatening to take their door down. He probably takes my silence for his cue to go on, because he speaks again. "Your mother and I love you, Mimi—"

"Daaaaaad." I whine as a hurt animal would and he smiles lightly. He knows I hate it when he uses pet names with me and that's exactly why he does it.

"It's true! Just… Try to show a little bit of happiness, will you? For me?" He brushes a lock of my hair back and I can't help but nod. He understands me, just like I understand him. I can't say that about the relationship me and my mother share. It's always up and down. We have our good moments in the house. Like when we take care of our garden and our medicinal herbs. When we go to the meadow to collect some more specimen or to pick flowers. My mother is not one who likes pretty things and I'm not either. But we both think it still makes the house look nicer.

But then, there are those moments when I ask her to take me to the woods with her. Yes, my mother is still allowed to go. It seems as though she's the only one in this town who can get out, and it's truly annoying. Why can she, and not me? I know she's older. I know she has experience. But how do they expect me to build experience if they don't let me go in? Every time I ask her, she says it's too dangerous for a girl of my age. I then remind her that she was not much older than I was when she first went in on her own after her father died. Even before, she would go in with him. Why can't I? It seems so unfair. And she storms off. Probably to the woods. But I don't know. I'm not allowed to follow.

My dad leaves me there, probably to go to the kitchen and finish preparing before he has to go to the bakery. Great, another day left alone with my mother and my brother. If only I could escape somewhere. I go back inside my room, where I would usually spend most of my day until my father came back from work and it was time to eat. Instead, I decide to get dressed and go downstairs. Breakfast has been laid down on the table and my brother is sitting in his spot, sipping on some kind of beverage in his cup. I fall in my chair loudly on purpose, but my mother is nowhere to be seen. I begin to eat.

"Do you want to go to the meadow, later, Mimosa?" I look up at my brother with wide eyes. His smile is refreshing and it makes my face light up a little. We never spend much time together. Probably because I spend so much time being on my own and being mad at I don't know what. But the truth is that I care about him too, probably even more than I care about Haymitch.

"Sure, Willow." He grins at me and gets up. For a moment, I think he's simply going back to his room to get ready before he comes over and hugs me.

"Thank you." I suddenly feel warm inside and wrap one of my arms around him, brushing his blonde hair lightly with the other. He pulls away and runs off, just like he always does. That's when I see her, standing in the doorway.

"I'm going out." I roll my eyes.

"Like always." I tell her.

"Wash your dishes. And be nice to your brother."

"Will do." This a common conversation for us. I expect her to leave and turn back to my plate, starting to eat again. But I can still feel her presence. My mother is still standing a few feet away from me.

"Yes?" I ask, looking up once again.

"We need to fix whatever problem we have, Mimosa. It can't go on like this." This is the first time in years that I actually see my mother's face filled with sadness. She would always try to be strong for both of us. She would put on a smile whenever we were around her. But, when we were younger, the nightmares were much more frequent. I was only a little girl when her screams woke me like they did every other night. Usually, I would just stay in my bed, staring at the ceiling until they ended. But that night, I stood up and went to my parents' room. The door was slightly open and that's when I saw her, crying in my father's arms. I rushed in, of course, wondering what had hurt her. She assured me it was nothing, but I stayed there, snuggled in between them, rubbing my mother's arm. I think that's the only time I've truly seen her cry. Well, unless you count the time she was distracted by my father and she cut her finger will skinning a rabbit.

I can't help but feel like that little girl when I see the expression on my mother's face. I drop my utensils which make a clinking sound on the plate. This brings me back to reality.

"Y-yes…" That is all I am able to murmur. But it seems to please her. If we do have something in common, it's how simple we are and how pathetic we are when it comes to words. My brother and father don't have that problem. I watch her as she goes out and go back to eating, sighing.

Since I am already properly dressed for a day outside with my brother, I don't complain and whine as I usually would when he comes rushing down the stairs and takes my hand, pulling me outside. It's a beautiful day really. Well, just like any other summer day in District Twelve. It never rains, or barely. And when it does, it only lasts for a few hours. I guess this is how we are rewarded after the cold, long winter we get every year. I have the intelligence to grab two small bags as I am forced outside of my home and into the sunlight of the day. I squint my eyes at first as they adjust to the sudden burst of light. My brother is already far ahead of me, not caring if the sun burns his retinas. For the first time in a long time, a soft chuckle escapes my lips and I launch after him, after I have tied the two bags to my pants with the strings we use to keep them closed. I try to catch up with him, but his small legs seem much quicker than my taller ones, and, before I have time to consider why this might be, I stumble backwards after bumping into someone.

"Sorry." I mutter before even looking up at the person. In fact, I don't even want to. They'll probably end up telling me I should watch where I'm going. Isn't that what people usually tell you when you run right into them?

"S'okay, kid." As soon as I hear those words, my head snaps to look at whoever is standing in front of me. The boy must be a year or two, maximum, older than me. And yet, he calls me kid. I frown as I look him up and down. No, he's definitely not older than that. As I look back up at his face, I see him smirking and can't help but roll my eyes. What's his problem? "Liking what you see?" Overconfident, that's for sure, and it makes me sick.

"I know I don't like what I hear. If you're done being full of yourself, move." I snap, pushing past the boy before he can say anything.

"Actually," I hear him calling back. Ugh, everyone just really wants to get on my nerves today. "I'm looking for a place called the Meadow. Do you happen to know where it is?" Only one question pops into my head as he asks this: Who is he? But that's when I see the man coming out of a shop behind him and I raise an eyebrow. I don't know why exactly I have seen a picture of him around the house. What is he doing here? With his kid. I thought they lived far away. I frown once again.

"I told you not to wander off, Myles." All I can think is how much Myles sounds like a weird name to me.

"I was just looking around, Dad." The son complains. The father's eyes set on me and they widden until I think they're about to explode. He recognized me. From the corner of my eye, I see my brother coming back. He obviously noticed I was not following him anymore and decided it would be safer for him to come and get me.

"Who's this, Mimosa?" He asks in his little angelic voice and the man frowns. I know why.

"I thought you were named, Primrose, after your aunt."

"I asked them not to call me that anymore… Mimosa's my middle name." I answer calmly as I look up at him. My father's truly an excellent painter. He got everything detail in that picture perfectly.

"You two know each other?" I hear the boy named Myles ask.

"You said we were going to the Meadow, Mimi." I frown slightly but I don't answer. I know acting like a child would look absolutely foolish right now. For some reason, I don't want to look foolish in front of this man. Or his son, for that matter. They both resemble each other a lot. Same hair, same eyes, same stature, same—

"We don't know each other. I know her parents." He says, looking down at his son. "Tell them I said Hi." He says as he turns back to me and I nod. Easier said then done. I'm sure either one of their reaction won't be a good one. Maybe I'll just let them find out on their own. But I'm convinced Willow will end up telling her. That's not an option. I promise myself not to tell him who that was.

However, as soon as we've left the two strangers behind, he begins to ask questions about them. Who are they? How do I know them? How did I recognize them? Fortunately, once we enter the Meadow, he's distracted enough to stop asking all of those questions. We get back around noon and I notice my mother is already home. Her boots are laying across the carpet somewhere near the front door. Willow finds her and I can hear him telling her everything that happened. I was wrong. He did not need the name of the man to go and tell. I close my eyes tightly, attempting to escape this world. But it comes back as my mother wakes me from my reverie.

"Who was it out there today that you met, Mimosa?" She asks calmly. What can I possibly tell her? Then I remember our conversation of this morning about fixing our problems. I can only tell her the truth, even if it means revealing the fact that I have been sneaking around the house through my parents stuff when they're not around to see me doing it.

"Gale Hawthorne." That's all I manage to say.


	2. The Deal

Here comes the second chapter of Never Better, Always Worse. Sorry it has taken me so long to upload it, but I have just learned I have a job and I'm so excited about it c: So yeah. I saw that many people have apparently read my story. I appreciate it. I'd really like to hear what you people think so far, however. I still don't know how long this story will be. As long as I feel I can go on with it, it will go on, really. So that's about it. Thanks for reading, you guys. 3

DISCLAIMER. I do not own the Hunger Games trilogy or everything it contains. Suzanne Collins does. The only thing I have made up are the names of Katniss and Peeta's children and Gale's child.

**CHAPTER TWO**

I can tell by the look on her face that my mother is completely speechless. Standing there, in the doorway to the kitchen, she stares right through me, making me think I might have gone invisible during that short period of time. I remove my leather boots, the ones she used to wear, and run a hair through my brown locks. When my father comes in later on that day, smelling of cinnamon and fresh bread like he always does. I love that smell. He seems to be happy. Must have been a good day at the bakery. However, as soon as he sees the love of her life, the happiness disappears from his face and it is now filled with worry. I leave them alone, knowing that it's not my place as he starts to comfort her. Instead, I make my way to my brother who is sitting in front of the fire in the living room. He, too, knew that there was not his place. We both stare into the fire. He makes some light comments on the weather or such things that I am unable to hear.

Finally, my parents both come out of the kitchen. I can see in my mother's eyes that she has not been crying. However, I make note to keep my answers short just in case she suddenly bursts. I want to be out of the way before it happens. I'm not exactly good with people crying, especially when it's my mother. My brother looks rapidly between the three of us. I know he doesn't get what's going on, but he's smart enough to at least keep his mouth shut and keep every question he has to himself for the time being. I turn my back to the fire and watch them as they sit there on the couch. They start with easy questions.

"You saw Gale in town, today?" My father is talking. I know my mother must be too shocked. Or maybe I'm completely wrong. I simply nod. There are no need for words to answer that one question. I'm not one to talk if I don't need to.

"That's a surprise. We haven't seen him in years." I know that. Even my brother probably knows that, just by seeing the shock on their faces.

"How did you know who he was?" I look up at my mother. My father was probably beating around the bush too much for her. However, I quickly look back down. She has asked the question that I did not want to hear. What am I supposed to answer to that? The truth, of course. I'll get into trouble, for sure. Forget the plans of ever getting out again. I'll be stuck here for months without even being aloud to go to the Meadow.

"I… I saw a picture of him Dad drew… A while ago." That's enough for them to know how I found it. They both know where that particular picture is. I don't need to go further. My father runs a hand over his face. My mother looks at her hands and leans against his shoulder.

"What did he tell you?" My father, again.

"Simply to say hi to both of you."

"He didn't say why he was in town?" I think. Maybe he was visiting. I know he once lived here. Does he still have family that live here? I doubt it. I have never heard of someone named Hawthorne around here. Then _why_ was he here? I shake my head. Both of my parents look at each other before telling us both to go to our rooms. I don't need to be asked twice to stand up and leave the room. I feel the tension building up in the air and I don't want to be around when it all explodes.

As I come downstairs the next morning, dressed like I usually would never be by now – in fact, I would still be in my room, I notice my mother's nowhere to be seen. It's only when I go to the living room's window that I see her, talking with the man who's son I bumped into yesterday. They don't seem to be arguing. But, from the look on his face, I can tell that they are not happy either. I make my way to the kitchen table and my father looks at me, obviously surprised that I'm up so early. I roll my eyes and request breakfast. The three of us – my brother has appeared a few minutes after me with his usual smile – eat calmly until we hear my mother coming in. I can tell by the way she closes the door that this has not gone the way she had expected it to go. I frown. What could that man possibly be hiding from my parents? I sigh, finishing my breakfast, knowing she will not say anything in front of us. I drag my brother out of the room, but he doesn't seem to mind. He simply skips off, probably to go play with something that I am not interested in. I have better plans. As soon as I'm upstairs, I can hear them talking.

I sit on the last step of the stairs, my knees pulled to my chest as I try to make myself as small as humanly possible. Of course, this is stupid. They obviously cannot see me since a wall separates me from them. I have difficulty hearing. I come down two steps and it's already much clearer. I focus on their voices.

"He was very vague, Peeta. He wouldn't tell me exactly what was going on." My mother says, probably in response to a question my father has just asked her.

"It's probably nothing, Katniss. You should stop—"

"It's not nothing. Why would he be back after twenty-eight years, Peeta? He clearly said there was nothing left for him around here." My mother goes on, obviously upset. I think about letting them talk alone. Then again, I truly want to know what is going on. But they don't seem to know much more than I do, at this point.

"Well, he has his reasons. Let him be."

"Reasons that involve Paylor?" Paylor is the president of our country. For watching television from time to time, I know she once was a rebel from District Eight. How she got to being president, I don't know. And, of course, my parents would not tell me.

From what I have just heard, I'm guessing Gale must be in District Twelve for government reasons. Whatever those might be. As usual, I find myself intrigued by this mystery. I don't see why there would be any kind of governmental issue in our peaceful district. Then again, I don't know everything. Do I? Well, of course, I don't. Otherwise, the Guardians would let me out into the woods from time to time. But they don't. There's most likely something out there that they don't want me or anyone else to see. Well, anyone except my mother. But she once was the Mockingjay. She must have some kind of privilege. While thinking, I lose track of their conversation and decide that I have heard enough. Speculations will not get me anywhere tonight. Maybe if I can run into that Myles boy again, I can get some kind of information out of him. That is, if him and his father are still in town.

I go to my room and prepare myself to go out. Better sooner than later, right? My parents will most likely suspect something is wrong with me if they see me going out so often. I'm more of an indoors person, you see. Well, mostly because the only place situated outdoors that I would want to visit is off limits. But then again, it's not like I am not allowed to go outside from time to time. And I'm convinced it would please my parents to see me going back to my old self. I make note to make sure they never know what I am really doing as I escape the house. I leave my brother behind. I don't exactly want an incident like yesterday happening again.

I make my way out of the Victor's Village, the only thing left of the old District Twelve. During the war, everything was detroyed. Except those houses. I'm quite glad, in fact, that they were not destroyed, even if they bring back bad memories to most of the people living in District Twelve. For the first time in ages, I actually am looking for someone in town, but I can't seem to find him anywhere. Of course, when I'm not looking, everything comes right at me. I swear life really is strangely made. After a few minutes, I start thinking that I might be too late, that him and his father might have taken the train back to their District.

"Looking for someone, kid?"

"Stop calling me that." I say as I spin around on my heels and look up at him. Of course, I recognized his voice immediately. Well, mostly that habit he has to call me kid even though he's barely older than me.

"Would you prefer I start calling you Mimi?" He smirks and I glare at him. This seems to only amuse him even more and I look away, making some kind of frustrated sound under my breath. "Alright, alright. Looking for someone, _Mimosa_?"

"For you, actually."

"For me? I'm flattered." I roll my eyes and am about to leave when I remember why I came here, looking for him. To solve the mystery involving his father.

"Look, I have a simple question. Why are you here?" I ask firmly, standing up straight and showing him I won't give in until I am satisfied with his answer.

"I don't know what you mean, ki—Mimosa."

"Of course, you do!"

"No."

A long sigh escapes my mouth as I run my hand through my hair. I look down at my feet, kicking a rock which was innocently laying there. Of course, he knows what I mean. Is it so difficult to see it? Maybe it is for him. I should precise my train of thoughts. But how? Well, the answer to that is simple enough to figure out.

"Why did your father and yourself come back to District Twelve?" I ask even more firmly than before. This seems to throw him slightly off guard.

"I.. I actually don't know. You should ask him that." Then, it's laugh. A sarcastic one that escapes my mouth. I don't know how he has been raised. But is he actually stupid enough that an adult would tell me, a child, what is actually going on? My parents never want to. Let alone a stranger. He seems serious though and I can see in his eyes that he is not lying. A little talent of mine that comes in handy whenever my parents try to explain something to me without revealing too much. I guess all those doubts I have on our society could come from there too.

"You really have no idea?"

"Well…" He starts.

"Go on."

"It can't be that, though. I mean… I don't know."

"Just say it, already!"

"I think it has something to do with the government or something." Really? That's all? I could figure that much on my own, even if I had not heard my parents conversation that very morning.

"You're useless." I finally manage to wipe that smile right off of his face and he turns away, leaving me standing there, on my own. What am I supposed to do now? How can I figure everything out by myself when no one will help me? Maybe I should not have been so.. unkind. I roll my eyes as the words of my father from yesterday morning come back to me.

"Wait!" I call after Myles, but he doesn't stop. This is really not how I would usually act, but I go after him. Once I'm walking next to him – or rather running since I'm trying to keep up with his long and large steps, I continue. "Please, wait. Are you sure you don't know anything else?" This makes him stop and I stumble a bit forward as I try to stop myself. I turn to him.

"No! I don't! I don't know anything else, alright?"

"Alright.. sheesh." For a moment, Myles looks at me, as if he was considering that next words that would be escaping his mouth. He looks around carefully and then steps closer to me. I am not one who likes such closeness with people. When I was younger, apparently, I loved the hugs my parents or even Haymitch would give me. I don't remember any of this, however. I don't have that good of a memory. All I know is that, as of now, it takes everything to accept a hug coming from anyone. Well, except my little brother. It isn't like I could ever push him away anyway.


End file.
